


Dream Weaver

by ArticulateFiction



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, One Shot, Pre-War, Romance, The Burrow (Harry Potter), romione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-26 01:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16209668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArticulateFiction/pseuds/ArticulateFiction
Summary: Ron has trouble sleeping before he, Harry and Hermione commence their Horcrux hunt, and the object of his affections finds out about it.





	Dream Weaver

Hi everyone! I haven't posted anything in a very long time, but I had an itch that needed to be scratched. This is just a fluffy one shot I wrote.

 

Make sure you leave a review if you enjoyed it! :)

 

-ArticulateFiction

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**Dream Weaver**

Ron’s eyes whipped open and his body flew into a sitting position as he awoke with a sharp intake of breath, his fingers desperately gripping the blanket that had become bunched up around his body. The sound of his harsh breathing flooded the dark room as panic and dread still coursed through him. His face and hair were damp with sweat, and his heart felt as though it was trying to beat right out of his chest.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness around him, his laboured breathing slowing down some when he realized he was safe in his bedroom. He tightly shut his eyes again and waited for the sound of his blood pumping through his ears to quiet as his pulse decelerated. He focused on the ordinary sounds of the Burrow at night around him - the soft creaks of the attic as the wind penetrated the holes between the roof shingles, the slight ticking noise that carried upstairs from the clock in the bathroom, the sound of Harry’s light snores from the cot beside him.

Slowly, he opened his eyes again and glanced over at his friend who appeared to remain asleep. Harry’s face was, however, hardly the picture of peace - his eyebrows were unconsciously twitching and his mouth was scrunched in a slight frown. Ron had no doubt that Harry’s dreams were just as unpleasant as his own were.

He flopped back down on his bed and tried to push the remnants of his nightmare out of his mind. Horrible, lingering images of sky-high flames, twisting clouds of black smoke, and familiar, lifeless bodies flitted through his brain as he squeezed his eyes shut again and tried to will sleep to come. He was exhausted and knew he needed more rest than he had been getting recently.

Try as he might, it seemed to be useless. Similar dreams had been disrupting his sleep for weeks. The possibility that he, his friends and his family may not make it through the next few months was far too real, and his brain couldn’t help but dwell on it - whether he was awake or asleep. He was certain his anxiety would only increase tenfold as soon as he, Harry and Hermione left the Burrow to start hunting for Horcruxes. He knew the contact he could have with his family would be limited on their search, and he’d be constantly worried about them.

He laid there a little while longer with hopes that this time he’d be able to fall back asleep. Unfortunately, his hopes were soon dashed when a particularly stubborn image of empty, brown eyes laying open on a petite, unflinching body flashed behind his eyes over and over. He shivered and his veins felt like ice ran through them at the thought of Hermione dead. He swallowed thickly at the faint feeling of nausea that appeared every time he thought about her not making it through their mission alive. He couldn't continue to linger on those thoughts any longer for risk of completely breaking down. He needed a distraction.

Resigning himself to another sleepless night, he grudgingly sat back up, climbed out of bed and quietly tiptoed across the bedroom. He twisted the door handle and opened the door just enough to slip through, glancing behind him to make sure he hadn't woken Harry. Satisfied that his friend was still asleep, he snuck into the hall and silently closed the door behind him.

Leaning back against his bedroom door, he gently exhaled his breath and closed his eyes. He listened to the silence around him and wondered what he would do tonight to keep his mind off of his troubles. Sometimes he went for a walk, although he never strayed too far - it wasn’t safe nowadays.

Still undecided, he opened his eyes and crept down the stairs, past his siblings’ bedrooms and onto the main floor. He looked outside the window in the kitchen and stared out into the darkness of the night, contemplating whether or not he felt like walking. There wasn’t much else he could do at this hour of night, at least not without waking his family.

He let out a heavy sigh and grabbed his zip-up sweater off of the hook near the door. As he was pulling his arm through the first armhole, he heard a faint creaking noise coming from the stairs behind him and froze. He listened intently and realized it was the sound of footsteps softly making their way down towards him.

He turned around just in time to see Hermione’s tiny frame slink to the bottom of the stairway, and his stomach swooped at the sight of her. Her hair was clipped back, but a few pieces hung delicately around her face in a way that made him want to reach out and run his fingers through it. Her pyjama set of shorter-than-average shorts and a tank top that clung in all the right places had his breath caught in his throat.

“You’re leaving again” she stated quietly, snapping him out of his short-lived reverie. She looked worried as she watched him finish pulling his sweater on, chewing on her bottom lip and crossing her arms across her torso as she huddled into herself to keep warm. “Where is it that you always go?”

The question caught him off guard. He hadn’t realized she had noticed him leaving all these nights. He had thought he was being quiet enough not to wake anybody. He stared at her like a deer in headlights before his brain kick-started and he realized she was waiting for an answer.

He zipped his sweater all the way up to his chin. “Just for a walk,” he answered nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as he buried his hands in the pockets of his sweater. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you” he said with a polite smile in hopes to ease some of the tension that he saw on her face. “I thought I was being more sneaky about it.”

To his disappointment, the worry in her face stayed firm. “You just casually go for a walk alone every night while the rest of us are asleep?” He mentally kicked himself - he should have known that she knew him too well to fall for his ruse of attempted dispassionateness.

The smile fell from his face and he looked away from her and down to the floor, unable to hold her gaze as the tips of his ears became tinged with pink. “I, err, haven’t really been sleeping that well,” he reluctantly admitted. He could feel her stare boring into him, waiting for him to elaborate. He wasn’t planning on saying much more - he hadn’t wanted anyone to know how difficult of a time he was having with all that was happening. He thought he had been doing a good job of masking it.

After a long moment, she relented her staring and gave up on waiting for him to provide more details. He heard her clear her throat and gently say “Well, do you want any company?”

He looked up in surprise and met her gaze. He saw that she now looked rather shy and unsure, her cheeks slightly flushed as she still chewed on her bottom lip. He felt his tense mood start to dissipate and his heart fluttered at the thought of spending time alone with her.

“I’d love some” he said eagerly, his smile instinctively stretching a bit further than he’d have liked. He cleared his throat, quickly wiping the grin off his face and hoping his excitement wasn’t too obvious. “But, err... you don’t have to if you’d rather go back to bed...” he added awkwardly, hoping she’d hear the hidden implication that he was just being polite and wanted her to join him.

She gave him a knowing smirk as the hesitation she had earlier disappeared. “I don’t mind,” she said as her cheeks flushed deeper. “I wasn’t really asleep either”.

She walked over to the coat hanger and grabbed her blue hooded sweatshirt that he had noticed she seemed very fond of. She pulled it over her head, pulled her slip-on shoes on, then met him back at the door. “Ready?”

Ron looked pointedly at her nearly naked legs, and he couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not going to be too cold like that?” He at least had on his pyjama pants if it was a bit nippy outside, but he was worried that she might not fair so well in those shorts.

She waved his comment off and bunched her sweater further around herself. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure.” She squeezed past him and opened the door, stepping out into the yard and looking up at the night sky. Ron watched her stare up at the stars, now feeling much lighter than he had a couple of minutes ago. He smiled to himself, slipped his shoes on and followed her outside.

“So,” she said, turning around to face him as he exited the house. “Where are we going?”

Ron put his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders again. “I normally just take a walk around the garden. Sometimes I go up around the hill behind the fence. I don’t like to go much further than that at this time of night…”

Hermione nodded her agreeance at his last sentence. “Alright, well… lead the way.” He smiled at her awkwardly and started walking towards the back fence, Hermione following closely at his side. They walked in silence for a short moment, Ron racking his brain for something to start a conversation. His time alone with her was severely limited nowadays, and the pressure to make the most of it was mounting inside of him.

“So...” she started, beating him to fill the quietness that had formed with idle conversation. “Excited for the wedding next week?”

“I suppose so,” Ron answered, smiling lightly at the reminder that his oldest brother would soon be married. “Not nearly as excited as Mum, but I reckon it’ll be a good time. What about you?”

Hermione laughed lightly. “I don’t know if anyone has ever been as excited for anything as your Mum is for this wedding.” Ron chuckled in reply and started to feel more at ease, the reason for him being awake to begin with drifting into the background of his mind as he listened to her speak. She smiled back and continued. “I am looking forward to it, but to be honest I think I’ll be just as happy when it’s over, what with all cleaning she has us doing beforehand.”

“Tell me about it,” Ron answered, rolling his eyes. “She’s gone absolutely barmy, and I honestly mean it this time. I’ve de-gnomed the garden so many times this week that I’ve learnt all the gnomes names, family histories and favourite colours.” Hermione laughed out loud and he felt his heart swell at the sound of it. He had always seemed to be able to pull that laughter from her lips easier than others, but lately it seemed to come even more freely.

This summer had been different for them, and not just because of the intense planning they’d been doing with Harry. Something important seemed to have shifted for him after last year. He had finally admitted to himself that he had been in love with her for years, although when exactly he realized it he couldn't say. The recognition that he had nearly lost her from his life by being a prat led him to now try and spend less time bickering with her and more time trying to improve their relationship.

He took as many opportunities as possible to use tips from the book that his brothers had given him about “charming” witches - he engaged in more conversation and listened when she spoke, avoided confrontation when possible, and he tried to compliment her often. So far it seemed to be working wonders for their friendship. He’d take what he could get, but he wondered for the millionth time if he'd ever have the guts to push for more. He thought that he just might if she ever gave him any indication that she’d reciprocate his feelings.

He looked up and realized they had reached the fence at the back of the Burrow’s property. He opened the gate and motioned for Hermione to pass through before him with his hand. She gave him a polite smile in thanks and crossed over, waiting for Ron to follow and shut the gate behind them. They continued on walking towards the hill that overlooked the back of the house.

“I’ve never really noticed how brilliant it is here”, she said quietly as she stared up at the night sky. She blushed when she realized what she had said and bashfully looked back down at the hill they had now started to slowly climb up. “I mean, of course I’ve always loved staying here at the Burrow with you and Ginny. I just meant I’ve never noticed how… picturesque it can be. Especially at night.”

Ron couldn’t help the way his heart danced when she mentioned staying there with him, not just Ginny. He smiled and looked out at the forest in the horizon as they reached the top of the modest hill. “Yeah, I guess it’s alright. I used to think I’d rather live elsewhere when I was younger. I’m not sure I’d change a thing about it now, though.” He huffed out a laugh. “Well, I maybe wouldn’t mind if the ghoul in the attic took a permanent holiday.”

Hermione giggled quietly with him. “Is he what’s been keeping you awake, then?” She was still smiling, but he could see the concern he had seen earlier in the night behind it now.

He could tell that she somehow knew already that their ghoul wasn’t the problem. He considered lying any ways and taking the easy way out by blaming it on his noisy neighbour upstairs. It'd certainly be a reasonable excuse… But he remembered his promise to himself that he would try and make more of an effort with Hermione, and finally decided he should be honest.

He didn’t really have to tell her everything, though...

He briefly met her eyes and his smile turned sad as he huffed out a small, sarcastic laugh. “Not quite.” He looked back out towards the horizon, steeling himself for what her reaction would be to his admission. “I’ve, er… been having night terrors, actually. Haven’t been able to get more than a couple of hours of sleep each night for weeks now.” He looked back towards her and couldn’t bear to hold her gaze out of shame. “I know,” he said, looking away again. “It’s pathetic, really.”

“No!” Hermione interjected, perhaps a bit louder than she had intended to, as she grabbed one of his elbows and pulled him in her direction. He looked at her with a jolt at the sudden increase in volume of her voice. “I mean,” she said, wincing in apology and releasing her grip on his arm, “It’s not pathetic, Ron.” She looked back up at him, making sure to keep his eyes locked onto hers this time. “It happens to everyone.”

He shook his head and looked away again. “But I’m completely terrified to go to sleep, Hermione. Look at me, out here in the middle of the night. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not,” Hermione said pleadingly, gently grabbing his sleeve this time and steering him back. “That’s ridiculous. I certainly don’t blame you for wanting to stay awake.” His eyes met hers and he could tell she was being sincere, although it didn’t do much to ease his embarrassment. She bit her lip again and hesitated. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He laughed tartly and shook his head again. “I’d really rather not.”

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Oh, just stop sulking and let me help you,” she said as she suddenly sat on the ground and tightened her grip on his arm to yank him down with her.

“Hermione…” he groaned, rolling his eyes back at her as he reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled downwards.

She tutted in disappointment and gave him a sad look, now - a sight he hated more than anything - as she still clung to his arm and tried to gently pull him down the rest of the way. “Please, Ron. I know you find it hard to believe, but I am worried about you.” He felt himself soften at her expression and sighed heavily, mentally daming the hold she had come to have on him.

He hesitantly sat down beside her in the soft grass, crossing his legs. Hermione tried not to look too victorious in response and relinquished her hold on his arm, satisfied that he wasn’t making a break for it. He immediately looked down and started to pick at the grass in front of him. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about it. Can’t we just talk about something else?”

“Of course we could,” she said, adjusting herself to match his cross-legged stance, “but that’s not a long-term solution. Maybe if you talked about it, the dreams would stop.” Ron spared her an incredulous look at that. It seemed very unlikely to him that the answer was such an easy one. Hermione rolled her eyes at him again. “Well it certainly couldn’t hurt, could it?”

Ron shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose not…” he grumbled, back to fiddling with the grass.

“Alright...” Hermione said, seizing her fleeting opportunity to get more out of him. “So tell me what the dreams are about.”

He sat in silence for a few moments, trying to decide how much he wanted to share. He pulled his crossed legs up towards his torso and clasped his arms around them, lifting his head up to look out at the forest. “I guess I’ve just been feeling a bit… stressed… with all that’s going on. I get these horrible visions of what could happen.” He kept his eyes straight and avoided Hermione’s gaze, waiting for her to say something.

“You mean with Voldemort... and our plan?” she asked quietly. He simply nodded in reply. She bit her lip in thought and adjusted herself so she was now sitting with her legs tucked underneath her, her body only an inch away from his now as she leaned on one arm towards him. “Well, I can understand that. What is it that you’re worried about specifically?”

“Everything,” he replied quietly as he shook his head and looked over at her. “Just, everything. What if he comes after my family, you know? What if something happens while we’re gone and nobody is able to tell me about it because they don’t know where we are?” He, Harry and Hermione had all agreed that they needed to keep their whereabouts hidden even from their friends and family while searching in order to keep them as safe as possible.

Hermione gave him a small, sad smile. “I know how you feel. I’m worried about it too. I know I’ve hidden my parents fairly well, but I’m just as worried about your family as my own, and we can’t exactly hide them the same way... We just have to trust that they’ll be able to handle things here on their own.”

Ron nodded in agreement and looked back down at the ground. “I just wish I knew for sure that they’ll be safe.” Hermione didn’t say anything in reply, but she surprised him when he felt her move all the way against him. He held his breath as he watched her hook her arm through his and rest her head on his shoulder. The flowery smell of her shampoo filled his nose, and it was all he could do not to bury his face into her hair and breathe it in. The misery he felt when he thought about his family’s safety trickled out of his mind as the ecstacy of having physical contact with her overtook it.

She breathed a heavy sigh as she stared out towards the horizon, oblivious to the effect she was having on him. “I’m sorry... I don’t know what to tell you, to be honest.” Her words brought him back to reality and he remembered what it was that she was trying to comfort him for.

He chuckled quietly. “Now that is a shock,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m not sure I’ve ever known Hermione Granger to not know something.”

Hermione tutted goodnaturedly and lifted her head off his shoulder long enough to give him a half-hearted glare and a gentle slap on the arm. “Honestly, was that really necessary?”

He gave her a cheeky grin and shrugged his shoulders in reply. “Sorry, can't help it sometimes.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes before returning to her position on his shoulder. They quietly sat like that for a few minutes, both staring out into the forest. Ron had to admit that Hermione's comforting presence was a vast improvement to his regular nighttime routine. At least he had something nice to focus on rather than the nightmares that tormented him.

A slight tremor went through the small body pressed against his, and he looked down to see that she was in fact shivering. He laughed and shook his head, gently unfolding his knees as she startled at his movement and sat up straight. He started to unzip his sweater and she gave him a questioning look.

“You know,” he said slyly, pulling his arms out of the sleeves, “I did tell you that you might be cold.” He finally got his arms out and passed his sweater over to her. Hermione looked nearly floored at his outstretched sweater, but she snapped out of it pretty quickly.

She blushed as she accepted his sweater and spread it out over her bare legs that were still tucked underneath her. “I suppose you were right this time,” she said with a slight smile.

Ron laughed in disbelief. “Can I get that in writing?” he asked teasingly. Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed with him as she shook her head. “No? Well, can’t blame a bloke for trying,” he said as he looked back ahead and brought his knees back up into himself.

Hermione didn’t hesitate to hook her arm back into his. The air did have a slight chill to it, but it felt nice with the warmth he was getting from Hermione clinging to his side. He let his thoughts wander as he relished the feeling of her pressed against him, the silence for once a welcome companion.

“Do you think we'll be successful?” she suddenly asked, breaking the spell as she continued to stare ahead of them.

He huffed a half-hearted laugh and repeated her own words back to her. “I don't know what to tell you, to be honest.” She lifted her head up and smiled sadly back at him. He could feel his heart sink at the worry etched on her face. He hated to see her like that. “But I hope so. I don't think Harry's going to quit until we are.”

She hummed her agreement as she looked back out at the horizon, her arm still hooked through his and their shoulders pressed together. “That's a fair point. I just hope he doesn't do anything stupid. This is important, but we need to be cautious. He has a tendency to risk his own life for what he considers to be the 'greater good’.”

Ron felt his anxiety start to return at the thought of his best mate and his impulsive nature. “He can be a self-sacrificing git sometimes, that's for sure.” he said solemnly. “We’ll just have to keep a close eye on him.”

Hermione turned to look at him and cocked an eyebrow. “And you aren't?”

He knew instantly she was thinking about their first year at Hogwarts, when he'd taken the hit during their wizards chess match beneath the school so that Harry and Hermione could continue on to stop what turned out to be Professor Quirrell. He shrugged sheepishly. He supposed she might have had a point.

“I think we both know you're far more likely to follow him into the fire than pull him away from it,” she said, half-kidding yet half-serious. Her gaze turned to the horizon and her smile melted away. “No. I'll be the one keeping a close eye on the both of you, I'm sure.”

The sight of her upset turned his mood back to one of distress. “And who’s going to keep an eye on you, then?” he asked quietly, turning back towards her.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, clearly taking his question as a joke. “Please. I’m being serious right now, Ron.”

A swift pang of annoyance went through him at her not taking her own well-being as serious as he did. “I mean it, Hermione,” he said firmly, unable to hold his tongue. Her face changed to one of surprise at the change in his tone and her arms went limp around his as she released him. He pinned her with a suddenly serious look as she leaned slightly back and away from him. “The worst dreams of all are the ones where you’re just lying there…” He cut himself off with a head shake and quickly looked back out to the forest, swallowing thickly and unable to finish his sentence as the images of Hermione’s dead eyes flooded back to him.

He could feel her gaping at him in mild shock, perhaps at his outburst or perhaps at what he had let slip about her death being his worst nightmare. He closed his eyes and breathed out in frustration for having gotten carried away.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He could feel his face start to flush under her intense stare, the embarrassment starting to catch up to him. He opened his eyes and released his knees, continuing to avoid looking at her as he ran a hand through his hair and kept his face straight ahead of him. “I’m just tired. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.” Whether or not he was talking about his tone or his words, he hadn’t yet decided.

A short moment went by when he thought maybe she wasn’t going to answer him. Just as he was about to wonder out loud how badly he had screwed up, he felt a small hand delicately grasp his. He looked down at it in confusion, then finally looked back at Hermione.

“Ron…” she whispered, looking at him with fierce emotion in her eyes. He was shocked to find she didn’t look remotely angry. “Is that what you’re so worried about? That I might die?” He looked back down at their hands on top of his crossed legs, reluctant to give her an answer.

“Please look at me,” she said gently as he watched her entwine their fingers together. She turned her body towards him to catch his gaze and pressed herself up against his side again. He pulled his eyes away from their hands and back towards her face. She was looking at him with what he could only place as adoration, and his heart constricted in his chest. He wondered if he was just seeing what he wanted to see.

“I’m not going to tell you I’m not going to die,” she said apologetically. “I can't. There’s no way to know for sure.”

“No, you’re not,” he said matter-of-factly as he shook his head and looked away again, instinctively tightening his fingers between hers. It was the same thing he had to tell himself to get by every night, whether he believed it or not.

She smiled sweetly, reached forward and gently brought the hand that wasn’t holding his up to cup the side of his jaw and pull him back towards her. The contact sent bolts of energy through his nerves and he couldn’t help but follow her hand. Their faces were mere inches away from each other now and his brain became hazy. “I mean, I don’t want to, of course… I can certainly try my best to not-”

He shook his head again, cutting her off. “I’m not going to let that happen, Hermione. End of discussion.” He held her gaze firmly this time, emboldened by the adrenaline that coursed through him from her touch. “I’m a self-sacrificing git. Remember?”

Hermione smiled and shook her head at his stubbornness. She stroked his cheek with the hand that still rested against his face. “When did you get so sweet?” she asked sincerely.

Something behind her eyes as she briefly ticked them down towards his lips hit him like a ton of bricks with the realization that something beyond friendship might be looming there. Again, he wondered if he was reading her expression right, or if their close proximity and her caressing hands were skewing how he interpreted things. He wanted to know for sure, but he didn't want to press his luck in case he was wrong.

He met her smile with a lazy grin of his own. “I don't know what you're talking about, Hermione. I've never been anything but a perfect angel.”

She shook her head, biting her bottom lip to keep from laughing at his remark. “Well, you certainly have come a long way from that boy in 1st year who once called me a ‘nightmare’” she said quietly, her hand slipping from his face, down his chest and onto their clasped hands.

Ron huffed a laugh at that. “And you’ve certainly come a long way from that girl in 1st year who was a nightmare” he said goodnaturedly. She laughed with him, her eyes still flicking between his eyes and his mouth. His blood was pumping fast and hard, his heartbeat reverberating in his ears, as he realized he wasn’t imagining the trace of longing behind her eyes.

The feeling that something life-changing was about to happen crept into his brain, giving him enough courage to reach his free hand up to hesitantly tuck a piece of stray hair on the side of her face behind her ear. He let his hand linger on her neck as the smile on her face slipped away and her lips parted in anticipation.

Accepting her wistful look must mean this wasn’t onesided, he cautiously leaned in those last couple of inches, letting his forehead rest on hers before making his move in order to give her one more chance to tell him off if it wasn’t what she wanted. He could hear her quietly gasp as their noses touched and their breath mingled together, her eyes instinctively closing. That was all the proof he needed.

Blind intuition took over as he delicately closed the small gap between their mouths. Time seemed to stop around him and all his focus zeroed in on the soft lips he had been aching to taste for years that were now pressed against his. He felt her eagerly move her lips against his, no sign whatsoever of hesitation, and an intense wave of euphoria washed through him.

The hand he had resting on her neck slid up to cradle the base of her skull as he increased the pressure of the kiss and parted his lips to deepen it, Hermione following suit. They slowly moved in sync against each other, savouring every second, neither of them in a rush to break apart. He was completely lost in the feeling of kissing her, not sure he would ever find his way back to reality. Not sure he ever wanted to find his way back. He sighed in absolute content, her hand squeezing his tighter in response.

Finally, he felt her reluctantly pull away from him, just enough to catch their breath as their noses still rubbed against each other. He lazily opened his eyes and pulled back a couple of inches more in order to get a good look at her face, his hand untangling from her hair to rest on her cheek.

They stared at each other for a moment in complete disbelief, neither of them seeming to know what to say. Ron was the first to smile at the realization of what had just happened, completely delirious from the happiness blossoming behind his chest. Hermione couldn't help but to suddenly bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing at his soppy grin, her own smile stretching across her face.

“Did that really just happen?” she asked, clearly stunned, although looking much happier than he had remembered seeing her in a long time.

He laughed lightly at her response as he gently shook his head, unable to believe his good luck that the girl he loved more than anything just kissed him back. “I'm not sure. Maybe I finally just fell back asleep and this is another dream.” His thumb that still rested on her face gently brushed against her skin as if to make sure she was real.

Hermione smiled brilliantly back at him and leaned in again, her lips finding his once more. She pulled her hands away from his lap and up to his chest, gently gripping the collar of his t-shirt to pull him deeper into the kiss. This one felt hungrier than the first, and Ron responded in kind.

His hand slipped from her face and instead found the dip of her lower back, and he gently pulled her closer against him. Hermione let out a soft sound of content as she raised herself up to her knees, his sweater now left behind in the grass, and repositioned herself to straddle his waist, never once breaking their heated kiss. She released his collar and laced her fingers behind his neck as she lowered her bum to a sitting position on top of his still-crossed legs.

He felt her tongue slide past his lips, desperately seeking out his, and he involuntarily groaned into her mouth. Her hands twisted through his hair, while his wandered from her lower back, past her tiny shorts and all over her bare legs.

Ron was the first to pull away this time, the two of them practically panting as they broke apart. “This seems very un-Hermione-like”, he said with a lopsided grin as he rested his hands on her bare thighs, thrilled to have the opportunity to see her this way. He had always imagined kissing her this way, but had no idea she’d be so responsive in reality.

Hermione smiled coyly in reply. “Well, your bad influence has always brought something out in me,” she said banteringly, her fingers continuing to play with the hair at the back of his neck. Giving him no time to reply, she immediately returned to kissing him.

Ron laughed into the kiss at both her cheek and her eagerness. Feeling brave by her obvious desire to continue, he gently twisted them to the side and lowered her down to the ground, stretching his body out on top of hers as they continued their kiss. He allowed one hand to lightly trace the length of her side, resting it on her hip while the other arm was propped beside her to hold most of his weight off of her. Their legs tangled together as they moved within the embrace.

The feeling of Hermione’s delicate hand slipping from his neck, down to the bottom hem of his t-shirt and grazing his bare skin caused another involuntary growl to sound from the back of his throat and into her mouth. Obviously taking it as a good sign to press on, she allowed her fingers to fully slide under his shirt and up the expanse of his naked back.

Desire started to cloud his brain at the skin-on-skin contact she was providing, but he forced himself to break the kiss before he took things farther than she might have been willing to go at that moment. As long as he had been waiting to do this, he still didn’t think it would be wise to push things - despite how badly he wanted to. He’d let her set the pace.

He stared down at her in amazement, lust still swirling inside of him and mixing with the burst of love he felt in his chest at the sight of her breathless underneath him, her lips slightly swollen. “You’re bloody perfect,” he breathed out. The proclamation seemed to catch her completely off guard as she stared up at him in awe. “Feel free to accompany me for a walk every night,” he added with a saucy smile.

“Does that mean you’re interested in doing this again?” she asked as she recovered, her mouth pulling back into a slight smirk.

Ron snorted a laugh. “I think I’d like to do this forever, if that’s alright with you.” His ears flushed when he realized how clingy it had sounded, almost wishing he could take the words back as soon as they left his mouth. She didn’t seem to mind, though, her smile growing slightly at his blatant honesty. Encouraged by her reaction, he carried on. “Do you also have interest in, er…”

“Repeating tonight’s events?” she interrupted somewhat smugly as he struggled to find the words he was looking for. He chuckled quietly and nodded his head, his heart stuttering as he waited to see what her reply would be. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but he couldn’t help but wait with nervous anticipation.

“Hmmm,” she hummed sarcastically as she looked off to the side, pretending to think very hard about her answer as she tried to minimize her smirk. Unable to carry on the ruse for very long, she turned her head back up to face him and gave him a slow grin. “Absolutely,” she whispered, her face looking so sincere and genuinely blissful that he again questioned if it was all real.

Incapable of putting into words how elated he was, he lowered his head and kissed her again, hoping to convey everything to her that way. He knew this change in their relationship would likely only make his fear for her life worse, and his nightmares more frequent, but he decided that if this is what he had to look forward to each night, then it was worth it.


End file.
